


Stone Cold Slumber

by Its_Kyla_Not_Kayla



Series: Kyla's FE3H One-Shots [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: AU, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Help, i had this idea and i decided sleep is for the weak, its 5am, only a little, other characters from the golden deer are mentioned but they;re not that important, spoilers for like, the end chapters of part 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 08:03:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20078878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Its_Kyla_Not_Kayla/pseuds/Its_Kyla_Not_Kayla
Summary: During the battle for Garreg Mach in 1181,  things begin to look dark for Byleth and her students.Begging the goddess within her for the power to defeat the approaching Empire army, Byleth decides she must do whatever it takes to protect the Monastery.No matter the cost.





	Stone Cold Slumber

**Author's Note:**

> Theme for this fic: Say Something - A Great Big World feat. Christina Aguilera

The students and professor of the Golden Deer House barely got a moment of reprieve before their lives were thrust back into the chaos of war.

The Flame Emperor, or in actuality,  _ Edelgard, _ managed to escape their grasp in their last battle, and now?

** _“The Imperial Army is marching on Garreg Mach.”_ **

That’s what Shamir had stated in her report, and now both Professor and House Leader rushed through the winding halls of the monastery and spreading the word to all of those they came across. Lady Rhea had already mobilized the knights who prepared for an all-out attack from the Empire.

_ How could Edelgard do this? _

Byleth couldn't say she was all too close with the leader of House Black Eagles, being the professor for a different class, but for her to be plotting an entire uprising against the church? She never could have seen it coming. 

\---

The afternoon sun stung her eyes as they emerged from the ornately carved wooden doors into an all-out war.

The Knights of Seiros clashed with Imperial soldiers in a bloody massacre in the field before Fódlan’s most sacred location. Battle cries amalgamated with the dying screams of friend and foe alike into a chorus of absolute despair and anarchy.

“Teach?” The usual strong and flamboyant voice of House Leader Claude suddenly sounded subdued and worried, but when Byleth turned to face him she found nothing but bravery in those emerald green eyes.

“We’re ready.”

The members of the Golden Deer house stood before her with weapons at the ready, not showing any signs of fatigue or injury from the earlier battle. Byleth’s heart swelled with pride at the sight. This group of rather bratty teenagers she had been roped into teaching had by now felt like a family to her. The only family she had left.

“Hey, Byleth.” Claude grabbed her wrist as the others marched down the long stairs to the battle below. The use of her actual name was an uncommon occurrence with Claude, who preferred to call her “Teach” rather than “Professor” but never really broke the formality completely but using her name. The only other time she could recall him saying it was the day they met and when he came to console her after her father’s murder.

“I’ve got your back, just like always.”

“Try not to die out there.” She tried to jest, hoping to see him crack a smile as is might be the last time she gets to see it.

_ “No promises.” _

Byleth gave him a steely glare as he shrugged, flashing her a small smile as they charged onward to join the fight.

\---

The young woman shouted orders across the battlefield to her comrades as they clashed with Imperial forces. Swords were swung and spells flung as crimson blood stained the thick green grass. 

Byleth ducked just in time to avoid a javelin, the flying metal spear grazing past her shoulder, missing her throat by an inch and slicing her already ragged hair. 

The pale green locks that drifted to the ground were still of foreign sight to her, unused to the light pigment instead of the dark blue she had inherited from her mother. The thought of it made her feel like a part of her had been erased. The blue of her hair and eyes had matched that of the deep sea, a stark contrast to her father’s blond hair and reddish-brown eyes. The sight of her reflection was the only thing she had of the mother she had never known, but since completely merging with Sothis, her own reflection of green eyes and hair seemed like a stranger was staring back at her.

_ Would father even recognize me like this? _

Just thinking about him was too much of a distraction for her current situation. Byleth plunged her sword through the chest of an archer who had been taking aim at Marianne, the man let out a gurgled cry as he fell limp on her blade. 

A deep and guttural battle cry came from her left before she had the chance to dislodge her weapon. 

An arrow sunk into the temple of the oncoming soldier sending him crumpling to the ground before he had a chance to bring his axe down upon her.

“And to think,  _ you _ were the one telling  _ me _ not to die!” Claude chimed as he retrieved his arrow from the man’s head.

_ “Check it out, over there.” _

Byleth turned to see what the brunet was pointing at. 

Across the field, a familiar platinum-blonde stood staring them down as the chaos ensured around them. Her violet eyes held no sign of mercy as she gripped her axe tightly as if beckoning them forward for a battle.

_ Edelgard. _

“Call off your army!” Byleth shouted to the young Emperor in what she knew was a futile attempt at stopping the continuation of this tragedy.

“This is an act of war!”

_ “Then it is war I declare.”  _ The woman stood her ground.

“War against the Church of Seiros and your false goddess.”

“What happened to you, Edelgard?” Claude begged his former friend, those emerald eyes full of betrayal and disbelief.

“What do you hope to obtain by plunging all of Fódlan into anarchy?”

“The same thing you wanted, Claude, though perhaps a more realistic version.” The ice in her eyes clearly spread all the way to her heart.

“I want to unite Fódlan into one nation as it was before, under the rule of the Empire.”

_ She’s gone mad! _

Byleth could hardly believe what she was hearing. Edelgard,  _ The Flame Emperor, _ had been plotting against the Archbishop this entire year. 

Professor Jeritza… Tomas… Monica… All of her accomplices who had been a part of the horrible occurrences across Fódlan as of late.

_ Monica. _

Byleth felt a rage grow within the wound in her heart as she wondered how much Edelgard had to do with the murder of her father. Whether or not it was by the new Emperor’s design, Byleth would make her pay.

Before Byleth had a chance to test her blade’s sharpness against her foe’s throat an enraged voice roared across the battlefield with a strength that shook the earth beneath them. A dragon larger than any of the demonic beasts soared from the monastery’s cliff, unleashing a powerful blast of energy of its jaws that levelled any foe in its path.

“Get down!” Claude tackled his professor into the dirt as the massive beast’s fury missed them by mere meters.

_ What the hell was that thing? _

“You alright?” He asked as they both picked themselves up.

“Wait, where’s Edelgard?”

The Emperor was nowhere to be seen among the fray, whether she got away or was eviscerated, it was impossible to tell, but Byleth coped for the latter.

The professor frantically looked around for the rest of her students. The beast didn’t seem to care who it exactly took out in its rage, hundreds of soldiers scattered around all burnt to a crisp or incinerated entirely. 

A familiar yelp sounded not too far off as she saw the pink pigtails of Hilda swirl around as she swung her axe down on any soldier who dared come her way. As strong as she was, she was vastly outnumbered.

“Claude, go help Hilda, I have to go after Edelgard.” She didn’t want to split from him, but ensuring Edelgard’s demise would end the war here and now.

“I’ll be fine, just go.”

Claude grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight, eyeing the Golden Deer bracelet clasped around her wrist.  _ A good luck charm. _ He had called it when he gifted it to her on her birthday during the last Horsebow Moon.

_ “You’ll be fine as long as you’ve got this thing with you.” _ He smirked before pulling an arrow from his quiver and racing to assist his classmate.

Although she figured having  _ The Sword of the Creator _ at her side would give her the best odds of winning, but luck was definitely needed here.

As the winged beast swooped in for another attack, the wails of demonic beast pierced the air as they pounced on it, knocking it from the sky.

She gripped her sword tightly and began to charge just as time suddenly froze.

It was a reflex she had developed that had saved her life a few times in recent battles, letting out a Divine Pulse at the first sign of critical injury. Her ears rung with the searing pain of the axe lodged a few inches into her back. She hated using her power on herself. Such an invaluable but limited ability was best used to save lives other than her own. Though Byleth kicked herself for her carelessness, she felt this axe belonged to the one she had been searching for. Byleth reached somewhere within her soul, willing the hands of time to tick backwards as she found herself just a few moments into the past.

A few moments was all she needed to see the great dragon fall again as she whipped around, using her blade to knock away the axe thrown in her direction. Byleth’s pale green eyes stared down Edelgard as she smirked at her own failed attack.

“How are you just impossible to sneak up on?” Frustration crept into the young Emperor’s voice.

“Who do you fight for the church? Join me and we can rid Fódlan of that evil witch.”

It was hard for Byleth to completely say she was fighting for the Church of Seiros. Religion had nothing to do with simply doing the right thing. The monastery was the first real home she had ever known. Her mother and father both rested there. Not to mention the bonds she’d made with the kids she taught were irreplaceable. The Archbishop be damned Byleth had her own reasons to fight. There wasn’t a chance that Byleth would give this up for a megalomaniacal warlord.

“I’d die before I’d join your cause.” Byleth hissed as she felt the power in her sword grow with her own anticipation.

_ “Then I guess you must perish.” _ Edelgard’s tone may have sounded defeated but her army was far from it. 

More soldiers poured onto the field, the continuous march of red-painted metal seemed endless. Endlessness outweighing hope as the look on Edelgard’s face told her she knew this victory belonged to the empire.

This couldn’t be how it ends. She had fought through too much to lose now based on sheer numbers.

_ Sothis... _

Sothis told her once their souls had been merged, they would no longer be able to speak to one another, but Byleth hoped the goddess would still be able to hear her.

_ Sothis, I need your power. _

Her desperate plea was met with a sudden feeling she had heard many people describe, but never experienced.

Byleth felt a pounding in her chest.

** _“The baby that never cried, or laughed, or even had a heartbeat.”_ **

That is what her father’s journal said.  _ Her heart did not beat. _ Yet this pounding was unmistakable. 

The hole in the hilt of her sword glowed a bright red as she felt the power flow through her as if her veins were filled with magma. Byleth shook with the energy, burning flames swirled around her, searing the Crest of Flames into the field around her as she held the Sword of the Creator high into the air.

“What the hell is-” Edelgard didn’t get the chance to finish that thought before Byleth plunged her sword deep into the ground.

The resulting blast incinerated all enemies in its wake. Swirling blasts of fire dancing around the battlefield to the music of Byleth’s will. The ground began to crack around her, forever marking it with her Crest. 

Though she could not see every life taken, she could feel them. Every body that came into contact with the flames of her wrath was felt in her very core. She felt their agony, their pain, but none of it mattered. Sothis may have been The Beginning, but for the Imperial Army, Byleth would be The End.

However, The End seemed to have come for more than just her enemies as the power within her began to fade. The yellowish colour of her divine blade began to fade into a dull grey that grew past the sword and began to coat her fingers. The heat of the flames turned into chilling numbness crawling up her arms, encapsulating even her golden bracelet in its colourlessness. The only colour added was the blood dripping onto the hilt from where it gushed from her nose.

Byleth felt her entire body growing stiff and tired. Oh, by the goddess she was tired. Every last fragment of energy was drained, but both her body and mind refused to cooperate enough to even allow her to collapse. As the stone crept across her chest she found herself nearly suffocating.

_ I’m dying. _

Sothis warned her many times about using her powers in excess, but as long as  _ they _ were safe, Byleth felt she could go in peace.

What happens to someone like her when she dies? Would she be able to see her father again? Would she be able to meet her mother? Sothis would die along with her, so what happens when a goddess dies?

Part of her was afraid to find out.

_ “Teach!”  _ Through her blurred vision, she could see Claude sprinting towards her with a limp in his right leg and a look of abject horror painted across his features. Injured, but alive. That was good enough.

By the time he approached Byleth could barely feel anything at all. Not the tears running down her face. Not his grip on her shoulders. Hell, when he yells for someone in the distance, she can hardly make out the words. 

_ I’m sorry, Claude. _

She wished she could say it out loud, but by the time she finishes the thought, everything she knew had become cold and dark.

\---

Claude’shit the soft dirt with a dull thud as he dismounted his wyvern, rubbing his gloved hand across her hard, pearl white scales. The beast let out a mournful trill as if sensing her master’s troubled heart. He paid his mount little mind in that moment, more occupied with the field before him. 

It was hard to imagine that five years earlier, this plain was the site of a great battle, unlike anything the monastery had seen in hundreds of years, and at the epicentre of that battle, stood strong an immovable statue. 

The surrounding area had been turned into a memorial for the hero of Garreg Mach, Byleth Eisner, who stood in her stony form, the Sword of the Creator still plunged into the soil where she had ended Edelgard’s war as soon as it began. 

The final rays of the sunset cast a golden light on the bouquets of violets that laid at her feet and scattered all around. The flowers offered to the Enlightened One for her bravery, loyalty, and sacrifice to the people of the monastery and all of Fódlan for that matter.

_ Hopefully, she can find some peace among the petals. _

Claude’s heart felt as if it would cave in at the sight of his old professor in such a state. The young woman he remembered seemed undefeatable by any enemy, charging headfirst into battle with her signature unnervingly blank expression and quick to throw herself between her students and any foe.

Although she was a professor, the lacking age gap between them always made her feel more like a friend to him. 

_ No. _

Friend seemed like the word that should be used to describe her, but it left an odd feeling in his chest like something unfulfilled. Before he wouldn’t have known how to describe how he felt about her, he just knew the agony he felt when she was taken away. 

Time was supposed to heal all wounds, but that never really occurred in him. Becoming the leader of the Leicester Alliance proved a decent enough distraction, but it was a lonely role. It was hard for Claude to continue along the path of his ambitions for a unified world when it was a path he walked alone. There was an empty space by his side that only one could ever fill.

That person had no more steps to take, no more words to speak, not even one final smile to bear. Just cold stone and a heavy reminder of what happens when you cross the Church of Seiros.

"Hey, Teach." Claude spoke to the unmoving figure.

“I kept my promise, I came back for the Millenium Festival.”

To think Garreg Mach would never have seen it’s thousandth year without her.

“Sorry I got here so late, the other nobles of the Roundtable just  _ love _ to debate me over every little thing.” He frowned at the expected absence of a response.

What he wouldn’t give to hear her voice just one more time.

He placed his hand on her wrist, the stone was cold as ice that chilled him down to his bones. His fingers traced the beads of the bracelet he had crafted just for her, now dull in colour and forever fused to her body.

_ Not so lucky after all. _

_ “I’m sorry.” _ The young ruler bit his lip as he also bit back tears. 

All war is unpredictable from start to finish. You never know which goodbye will be the last. Not that they even got the chance for a proper goodbye.

He couldn’t get over how she looked exactly the same as she did five years ago. Standing in this field, completely untouched by time. While Claude himself had changed quite a bit in the same amount of time. 

He was only twenty-three but felt far older. Perhaps that’s what leadership does to someone. Byleth couldn’t have been more than one or two years off of him, but her maturity as both professor and commander was astonishing.

He knew the past would never stop haunting him. From eating together in the dining hall to fighting alongside each other on the battlefield and every day in the library indulging in their shared thirst for knowledge that came in between.

She was the only one who he ever truly confided in. The only one he discussed his ambitions with. A plan for a unified world. She believed it was possible. The woman who could seemingly make anything happen shared his dream to break down Fódlan’s walls and let the outsiders in.

With her gone, it no longer seemed as possible as he originally believed.

As the sun finally set, blanketing them in darkness with only the light of the moon and the stars to light their way in a gleam of silver. 

The others were expecting him inside the monastery. He wondered how many of the Golden Deer kept their promises to return on the day of the festival. He tried to turn away but he couldn't pry his eyes from her. He leaned forward, giving her a small peck on her cheek.

_ “Rest well, By, you’ve earned it.” _

The man forced himself to turn away from her, taking a deep lungful of the crisp night air. Over the racket of the crickets, another noise catches his attention. It was quick and small, but something about it made him both curious and anxious.

He turned back to the statue, at first, seeing nothing amiss. Although when Claude took another look at her face, there was something new.

A crack.

Small little cracks spidered out from a point on her cheekbone. Thin and small, but Claude was certain they had not been there just moments earlier. Claude squinted in the dim moonlight, lightly running his thumb over the mysterious cracks. 

As if more fragile than the thinnest glass, the feather-light touch caused more cracks to strike out across her face. Claude jerked his hand back in horror, as the cracks continued to spread across her body as if she was about to crumble to pieces.

The original crack in her cheek began to glow with a golden light that quickly spread throughout her body as fragments of stone began to break away, revealing the almost forgotten colours of the past. 

And then she moved.

Byleth’s torso dipped forward, still gripping the sword as if using it to keep herself standing. 

“Byleth?” Claude reached out to her in disbelief.

She grabbed hold of one of his puffy sleeves, her nails digging into his arm through the fabric. When she finally looked up at him, her eyes were half-lidded and the circles underneath were dark and heavy. Tears began to gather in those eyes as she wordlessly reached up to touch his face. Her thumbs traced his cheekbones as she seemed to both recognize him and not at the same time.

“...Claude?” Her voice was hoarse and quiet.

“Y-Yeah I’m here I’m sorry I just-” Claude couldn’t help but laugh at himself as tears began to spill over.

_ “God I missed you so much.” _

Claude couldn’t stop himself. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. A few seconds passed before he pulled away, finding her green eyes wide open in shock. He expected to be slapped, to be yelled at. Any reaction from her was welcome after her being motionless for the last half of the decade. None of that came though, those eyes of her’s did not hold any anger whatsoever. Byleths eyes once grey and lifeless but once again the colour of the summer grass held only wonder with a touch of confusion.

“You… came back…” The Sword of the Creator fell with a thud just as Byleth’s legs betrayed her, causing her to fall forward into Claude’s arms.

He knelt to the ground, practically cradling her as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“A promise is a promise.” Claude chimes as his tears dripped onto her cheeks.

“You came back too, back from the  _ dead _ . That’s way more impressive than me riding a wyvern for a few hours.”

“Heh...heh…” Her laugh was weak and her skin was pale, it was clear that no rest was had for her these past years.

“My students?”

_ Always worried about everyone but herself. _

“Either up there enjoying the festivities or out there somewhere living their best lives.” Claude saw a small smile form on her lips.

“All thanks to you.”

“I’m glad.” Byleth’s smile grew wider as her eyes fluttered shut. 

A shot of fear rushed through Claude for a moment before the steady and strong rise and fall of her chest signified she was finally getting her rest. Gently, he picked her up in his arms, carrying her bridal-style up to the monastery. Hopefully, Professor Manuela wouldn’t be too drunk to accept a surprise patient. Though maybe the shock would be enough to sober her up.

Byleth began to stir in his arms as she hummed a little tune he did not recognize. He glanced down to find her fiddling with the gold and black beads of her “lucky” bracelet.

“I don’t think it’s the bracelet that’s lucky.” She whispered, nuzzling her head into his shoulder as her eyes closed again.

_ “I think you’re where my luck comes from.” _

“Then I shall stay by your side and make sure luck stays with you.” Claude smiled as he held her tighter, his heart still beating as fast as ever.

_ “My lucky star.” _


End file.
